


Penchant for

by cytrusekk



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cytrusekk/pseuds/cytrusekk
Summary: That's right, it's an explicit Courier/Supermutant Marcus fic.
Relationships: Male Courier/Marcus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Penchant for

Courier, for as long as he could remember (that is since being shot in the head), had not liked people. He could lend a hand, but wouldn't go out of his way for his kind. Other Mojave inhabitants, however, could always count on him.  
He felt at home with the ghouls and compassionate towards mutants, he walked the desert back and forth looking for spare parts for electronics, especially his beloved ED-E, whom he wouldn't replace for even the most skilled human companion. Not that he had people waiting in line to accompany him on his journeys; he was considered sometimes weird and often - downright scary. He rarely (or never, some would say) took off his riot helmet and rumor had it half of his face was missing and replaced with robotics because of the mumbling, clipped way he talked. _If_ he talked, because mostly he just stared. He had a penchant for lunchboxes, getting his hands on as many as he could and stowing them away in places only he knew, then regularly moving them elsewhere. He had sewn nighstalker hides into his coat and wore a belt of caravan cards around his hips. He recovered a sexbot for Garret and once a month, without fail, visited it for repairs and upgrades, no charge.  
Nobody had ever asked him why he did all those things, but everybody had their speculations. Whenever the speculations happened to reach Courier himself, he confirmed each and every one of them.

\---

Considering his affinity for non-human beings, it wasn't surprising that he got involved in Jacobstown and did everything in his power to help out its residents. Unfortunately, his knowledge of biology and medicine was negligent and after all the foot and gunwork was done, it was all up to Doctor Henry. He made slow progress, but progress nonetheless and each time Courier visited, there was good news.  
Marcus came to like him, but he couldn't quite understand Courier's interest in them. When he asked, Courier just shrugged and said,

"I think you're more human than most of the humans I meet", combing his hand through a mess of dirty dark hair. Marcus didn't know the rumors about him, didn't know that he was supposed to wear a riot helmet all the time. Besides the fact that one of his eye sockets was empty and closed over with scar tissue, part of his skull misshapen and bald, he had (or at least used to have) a pretty decent human face. Well, acceptable, at least.

"I've lived long enough. Makes you quite understanding of things," Marcus said.

"No wonder. Though I like to believe I'm hard to surprise, too."

Marcus only laughed, amused, but not mocking.

"Oh? I would dare you to surprise me, big guy."

Marcus' eyebrow shot up and Courier had a smug smile about him that didn't disappear under the scrutinous gaze of a supermutant towering over him. This kind of thing didn't work on Courier, as he had no sense of fear.

"Might've been the last words for some, boy."

"That good, huh?"

Marcus shook his head, laughing again. He wasn't going to ask for a clarification.

"You're something else, aren't you?"

Courier's smile grew even wider before disappearing under the rim of his helmet.

"That's one thing somebody got right, at last," he said and Marcus could hear that he was still smiling.

\---

Next time Courier appeared in Jacobstown, it was with two bags full of lunchboxes. Another small bag was carried by ED-E trailing behing him.

"Long time no see," Marcus said, trying to stifle the bitterness in his voice. Not that he had any right to be bitter, but he'd spent quite a bit of the last month and a half wondering what was going on in Courier's mind and what "something" was he exactly.

"Sorry. Had to carry this from way down south, Long 15."

"Why?"

That was a question Courier had never been asked. It took him by surprise, and he took a moment to answer.

"I'd just like them over here now. I like to know where they are in case something happens."

"There's already been an apocalypse. What else could happen?"

"Good point," agreed Courier, picked up his bags and carried on to the Charleston Cave. He stopped after several paces and called after Marcus, forcing the supermutant to turn towards him.

"You doin' something this evening?"

"Nothing in particular," Marcus answered warily.

"Count me in!"

Marcus thought about his room with straw bedding on the floor, a table, a few books… that was it. What were they supposed to do? Play checkers?  
If he was 200 years younger then oh, he _would_ know what to do. But now, not many had a taste for the likes of him. He quickly dismissed this long-forgotten and unfamiliar train of thought, hoping he remembered how to play checkers.

\---

The sun was setting and Marcus was wondering whether to send someone to the caves when a snowball hit him on the back of his head.

"Cheap shot," he grumbled when Courier walked up to him, laughing.

"Put someone else on the watch and let's go do something more fun."

 _Dismiss it,_ Marcus thought.

"In a while. I can't just walk off," he said.

"Alright." Courier took off his helmet and squatted down. "Guess I'll just wait here, then."

Marcus glanced down at him. Was it really possible that someone would want to simply spend time with somebody like him? Somehow, it kind of seemed weirder than a fetish for mutants.

"What's your name?" he asked, finally, to break the silence.

Courier scratched his head sheepishly.

"Uh, I don't really remember. What's wrong with Courier?" Marcus knew he got shot in the head, but didn't know to what degree it affected him. He had always assumed he didn't talk about his past because he simply didn't want people to know about it. "Courier, Six. I got used to these. I don't think I used my real name much even before the amnesia."

"So, you have some memories from before?"

The look on Courier's face told him he wasn't comfortable with this conversation, but the words were already out there and before he could take them back, Courier answered,

"Flashbacks, mostly. But it's hard to piece them together. There are many things I do better without thinking, like shooting, fixing stuff. Not that I'm a sharpshooter, one eye and all. Overall it feels... sometimes it feels like not all of me is myself. If that makes sense."

Marcus thought about it for a moment, dusting off the paths that his mind hadn't used for the last couple of decades.

"After my mutation..." he started, hesitantly. He glanced at Courier making lines in dirt with a stick, but he knew he was listening. It seemed only fair that he should share something of himself. "Well, I think I felt more or less the same, for some time. The 'before' was more like a dream. Disheveled, chopped images fleeting off before you could grab them. The physical change didn't help. Then I started making new memories that shaped my new self. I think I managed to join the pieces, more or less, but it took years. Depends on how long you live before the change, I'd say. For now I've lived through so many multiples of the time before, that who I used to be only matters for the sake of my identity. To remind myself that I was just like you, once. And that I'm not a monster, I just look like one."

Courier smiled sadly at him and Marcus felt that the last part resonated with him also.

"It's much worse when somebody who doesn't look like a monster, is one. And I've seen many of those. Now it's hard to surprise me if I don't make assumptions."

"Think I couldn't surprise you?" Marcus said, to lighten the mood.

Courier took up on the banter.

"I'd like to see you try, old man."

Marcus took out a small container from one of his pockets. It was a lunchbox.

"Oh, you bastard!" Courier cried, laughing. He jumped to his feet and made a grab for the box, but Marcus held it up out of his reach.

"Be nice," he said, handing it to him.

"Marcus, I'll be nice to you in all the ways you want for this. You know how hard it gets to find them after you've already scrounged the whole Mojave?"

Marcus decided not to ask why he felt the need to do that in the first place. In the corner of his eye he noticed one of his fellows coming to clock in. After a few words and orders, Marcus gestured for the Courier to come with him.

"Finally!"

\--

Keene growled when he saw Courier enter the mansion and asked Marcus how he liked being his pet.  
Marcus mumbled something about having people on their side being good for the town, but Keene just turned around and walked away.

"Woah, bet this guy hasn't been laid in like a century," Courier whispered theatrically while Marcus led him into a large, unused dayroom. Supermutants preferred the spartan conditions of tents with strawmats. Probably because human residences felt like dollhouses to them.

"Compared to the rest of us, who indulge in the sport daily," Marcus stated grimly. He started taking off pieces of his armor while Courier wandered about the room, checking out the bookshelves and, out of habit, rummaging through every drawer that could be opened.

"Yeah, I hear you. But, I found a sex robot and a ghoul for a brothel. I mean--" he said, struggling with one drawer that he wasn't sure was stuck or locked. "I bet a mutant would have quite a fanclub."

Marcus scowled and sat down on a huge armchair that looked like it was handmade by someone without a lot of skill.

"If you're here to recruit me or others as exotic sex toys, you're wasting your time."

"Oh no, no way I'm sharing you."

Courier turned around and shook a bottle of whisky he'd found with a questioning look.

"Help yourself. And be careful what you wish for."

Courier took a large swig and grinned.

"Think I couldn't handle it?"

Well, how much more straightforward could it get? Turns out it could when Courier crossed the space between them in a few strides, leaned down to Marcus' ear and whispered-

"Brother, I advise you to let me try."

He quickly straightened and took another drink, leaving Marcus dumbfounded and fruitlessly trying to redirect the rush of blood back from his groin. Courier didn't even pretend not to notice, quite on the contrary, he stared at it with piqued interest.

"What do you want?" Marcus muttered quietly, shifting in his chair. In response, Courier dropped to his knees and slid his palms up Marcus’ thighs.

”Let me see.”

Marcus slowly moved to unbutton his pants and Courier helped him slide them down a bit to reveal his hardening cock. He looked up as if to ask permission, but the situation was so unexpected and unravelling at such pace that Marcus’ mind had yet to catch up and Courier decided to take the matter into his own hands, literally.

”Oh, god,” Marcus groaned, letting his head hit the back of a chair loudly. Courier was just experimenting, trying a stroke here and a rub there, but Marcus had never… nobody had ever touched him like this. Like a lover, not a mate. He looked down at Courier and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. His fingers gently slid into Courier’s hair. The feeling of affection, safe vulnerability shared wih another person, momentarily pushed his arousal aside. He sighed, deep and long, feeling his tension disspiate. Courier leaned into his hand, then turned his head to place a kiss on his wrist and looked up at him. It was a simple gesture, but it took Marcus’ breath away.

”You alright there?”

”Yeah, just…yeah.”

He needed a moment to adjust, rein in this flood of new emotions, emotions he gave up hope to ever feel. Courier nodded and started kissing Marcus’ fingers one by one. His hands stroked Marcus’ thighs as Marcus struggled to process the sensations coming from his body that were not pain or temperature. He leaned forward and turned Courier's face towards him. Courier's brow furrowed slightly in anticipation, his one eye searched Marcus' expression.

"Undress."

Courier smiled and Marcus thought that it's really all about this - if you still have a beautiful smile, the scarring doesn't really matter. Or maybe it's about something else entirely.

Courier's skin was so smooth in comparison with mutant skin that Marcus' gaze almost glided over it. He didn't have the time to enjoy the visuals, because as soon as Courier shucked his clothes, he climbed onto Marcus' lap and very deliberately pressed his ass against his cock. Marcus grabbed Courier's hips, to which Courier responded by grinding again, and again, while his own cock jutted out leaking precum. It took just a tiny bit of Marcus' physical strength and a lot of mental one to still Courier's movement.  
"Easy," he whispered in explanation, letting his palms trail up Courier's ribs and back, hoping that the touch of his cumbersome hands was at least not off-putting. He desperately wanted to give pleasure, but while he was pretty sure he could pick up Courier by his throat and crush his windpipe, he wasn't so sure if he knew how to - if he could - make him feel good. By the way Courier leaned into his chest and hummed contently, he assumed he was on the right track, but also realised that it wasn't all about sex.

"Listen, if you don't want to go further with-- it's alright if we just stay like this."

Courier chuckled and even through his tough skin Marcus could feel the warmth of his breath. He would have nothing against staying just like this.

"I think I should be the one saying that, seeing how I came onto you without giving you the time to respond."

"I'll be happy with wherever this is going," Marcus said, bowing his head to hesitantly place his lips to the side of Courier's head. Marcus' fingers, now braver, traced the line of his thigh. "Just tell me what you need to me to do. Might be a bit rusty in either direction."

In response, Courier grabbed Marcus' hand and moved it to his ass.

"I like you," he said, pushing back into the palm that could easily cup his whole buttock. Marcus squeezed and Courier moaned, sliding his cock against Marcus' abdomen. "I like what I'm seeing. I like the way you feel. I like _you_ , Marcus, it's as simple as that. And for now..."  
Courier picked himself up a bit, letting Marcus' cock pop back in front of him and aligning them both together. Marcus got the message quickly.

"Fuck, that's good," Courier hissed, his head thrown back and hips following the rhythym of Marcus' strokes. "Wait, wait."

Marcus almost flinched as Courier moved away suddenly, somehow trying to bend backwards and sideways at the same time. He held him steady by the thighs as he rummaged through his clothes and emerged with a container.

"Gonna need more than that when I fuck myself on your fingers,"Courier said, off-handedly, smearing gun oil on their cocks, and Marcus' stomach flipped. "That's alright for now, though."

Courier grabbed Marcus' hand and guided it back to embrace them both, placed his own hands on Marcus' knees.

"Let's get on with it, then."

And apparently, Marcus knew exactly what to do.


End file.
